“Before I picked Chris up this morning, I donated three “bags” of stuff.” “Of what?” “School supplies, mainly. Childhood school supplies.[1,2,1]” Moving from a rental house into an apartment was a nice way to get rid of the biggest clutter in my life, but without changes in materialistic mentality, I was likely to return to that same hoarding lifestyle. “I had to rent a big apartment to fit all this stuff… I don’t care about…” 
Two of those “bags” were from “Keep, Pending, Donate.”
There’s a certain inconvenience of waiting in a thrift store car line to drop off donations for about 5 minutes on a nice Saturday morning, but there’s a more certain liberation of not having as much of a mental or physical weight looming over what you own. Sure, if I had been business-oriented, I could have sold those school supplies for a few dollars, or even given them to a school, but part of the problem with owning so much stuff is that you can’t focus on what can actually get you money.
For me, owning many things is a writing distraction.
Sure, I can write about the process of learning to let go of many physical objects, where each mental knot is different, but there’s only a certain niche for this. I consider these books, “Moving Zeal” and “Downsizing Zeal,” to be positive self-help books in a sense, but there’s only so much of a need for this sort of material. I suspect that once I move into my next apartment, I won’t be needing to downsize any further, or at least, there won’t be as many noteworthy revelations for me. It’s like when I wrote essays about self-confidence and psychology, those were me writing to overcome hurdles in my mentality over seemingly unique topics.
I wrote those whenever I felt like I needed to learn about either topic.
I don’t see much of a need to return to some of these topics, unless I re-read them and find some way to perhaps re-word them, or if I can approach the topic from a different perspective. Why rehash the past? Writing these essays have been more about giving ideas “life” rather than putting them to rest. If an idea can fully envelop itself upon an essay, over the course of a few hundred words, I can cut through it to find its core insecurity. If I feared something, then writing about it in a public venue can help me overcome that fear. For me to tell my friends and acquaintances on the Keyboard Kommander project that my primary reason for being away for a few months – the move – won’t happen again is peace of mind for me, and maybe for them, and if not, then at least it’s a nice talking point.
It’s like normalizing certain behavior patterns.
If I get into the habit of downsizing a little bit at a time, after I overcame a major obstacle, I’m much less likely to hoard “bags” excessively.
|Quotes: [1,2,1] Myself and an acquaintance talking over lunch.|
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: Title: Six-Demon Bag from Big Trouble in Little China. Otherwise, the conversation was a big inspiration for this essay.|
|Related: Other Downsizing Zeal essays.|
|Photo: Three blocks, representing the three containers of items I donated, and a bag, here my Double Fine bag signed by Tim Schafer.|
|Written On: March 23rd [30 minutes]|
|Last Edited: First draft; final draft for the Internet.|